


jell-o dinner

by feferifazbear



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types
Genre: Animal Death, Free Verse, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Poetry, mild body horror??, not actually fanfic sorry lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-25
Updated: 2020-11-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 07:06:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27709469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/feferifazbear/pseuds/feferifazbear
Summary: sorry this is lame but sometimes being lame is all a motherfucker can be





	jell-o dinner

-

huddled away in the kitchen,  
my mother waits for me.  
my face is red and i know that  
i'm going to be hugged.

she always waits until dinner  
is in the oven,  
before she starts a Conversation,  
(capital C, capital C!  
the gnats buzz in excitement)  
so that by the time i'm in tears,  
a distraction is ready.

i'm being hugged and my hands  
are captive at my side,  
and my face is over her shoulder.  
i cry, because i always cry, and  
it falls onto the roast pork.  
(splish, splash, sploosh,  
mix it up with the olive oil!)  
she cries, and speaks quiet words -  
false promises of protection -  
but im not paying much attention at all.

instead, i think of my father's  
hypertension.  
too much salt, Mr. //////,  
wonder why that is, Mr. //////,  
better slow down before you pop,  
Mr. //////! By golly, by gosh!

and i'm still there,  
nodding my snotty head along;  
agreeing with my mother's  
thinly veiled pleas for forgiveness.  
it doesnt really matter if i mean it,  
and i like to think she's smart enough  
to understand that.

then i'm piling my plate up,  
roast potatoes and boiled cauliflower.  
for a second my hand hovers  
over the pan full of greasy drippings,  
the meaty juices of a slow-cooked,  
absolutely sopping cut of pig.  
in that moment i want to drink it.  
vividly, like a cheapskate psychic  
having a flash to the future,  
i feel the oil in my mouth.  
the sticky-hot coating  
it would leave as it trickles  
down my spasming throat.

in that same flash,  
i think of the bog people in europe.  
the perfect mix of conditions,  
of chemicals and cold temperatures:  
leaving corpses Almost unrotted.  
the bones turned to jelly, sure,  
(sloshing, my stomach, roiling)  
but their skin and clothes and hair  
all preserved beyond belief.

i wanted to feel that putrefaction,  
wanted to let the liquid fat  
sizzle, pop, pop, POP!  
from the heat of my guts  
as they turn to gelatin.

and when the moment passed,  
i sit down quietly  
and eat my dinner.  
-

**Author's Note:**

> sorry i tagged this as danganronpa, i literally couldnt post without choosing a fandom so i picked one where the tag was already flooded w actual content


End file.
